


Friend in Need

by Indis



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: 18th Century, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingerfucking, Friends With Benefits, Pre-Canon, Pregnant Sex, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 08:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indis/pseuds/Indis
Summary: Margaret is plagued with fears during her confinement with Charlotte. Nancy eases her in the way she knows best.





	Friend in Need

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just popped into my head, and I had to churn it out before I lost the inspiration!

As Margaret reached the last few months of her pregnancy, it seemed there was nothing Lydia would not do to ensure her comfort. Her confinement was spent in one of the most spacious suites in the house, separated far away from the rooms of the other girls where noises of pleasure and delight echoed at all hours. In the day the room was light and airy, at night cosy and peaceful.

Still, as Margaret lay tossing and turning, trying in vain to sleep, she could not help but feel oppressed by the atmosphere. She was isolated, an island with nought but empty horizons on all sides. Lydia was her sole visitor. To Margaret she was all smiles, absent for once of the calculating gleam that always sparked in her eyes. Indeed, she seemed to be overjoyed by Margaret’s pregnancy, as though she were her own daughter preparing for the birth of a long-awaited grandchild. A physician, one skilled enough that he must have cost a pretty penny, came at intervals to make sure that the pregnancy was progressing smoothly.

He had proclaimed in his last visit that Margaret was carrying lower and more heavily than was typical for this stage in the pregnancy, and had prescribed bed rest. Forbidden from moving, cut off from all contact, Margaret would still have taken boredom over Lydia’s attentions. She took Margaret’s swelling ankles and massaged them with her own sweet smelling oils, regaling her charge with anecdotes of the sufferings of her own pregnancy with little Charles. 

Margaret did not know whether Lydia truly believed in her own charade that they were mother and daughter, but Margaret had long ago ceased to love Lydia. If her tenderness ever made the slightest impression on Margaret, that impression was undone when she heard Lydia turn the key in the door behind her.

Locked away from the world, the room completely dark except for a single shaft of moonlight that cut between the drapes, Margaret had too much time to indulge her fears and darkest thoughts. She could see no escape, and only prayed, desperately, that she might be granted a son, who would not have to know the hardships a daughter would inevitably face.

The jattering of a key in the lock disrupted the turn of Margaret’s thoughts. She heaved herself onto her elbows, heart hammering at a breakneck pace. For Lydia to be intruding so late could mean nothing good. Margaret was horribly aware of her vulnerability, sheets and a nightdress all that shielded her from view, her large belly impeding any speed.

The door creaked open, and a dark figure came into view, too slender to be a man and too tall for Lydia, eyes a bright blue in the moonlight.

‘Nance!’

‘Maggie!’

Nancy wasted no time except in closing the door before she practically flew across the room into Margaret’s now outstretched arms. She held Margaret close in an embrace both desperate and gentle. They were both crying, happy tears at their reunion after so many weeks forcibly separated.

‘How d’you find me?’ Margaret eventually choked out, when her speech was no longer stifled by sobs.

‘Lydia didn’t make it easy. I managed to steal the key, but she had manservants outside my door. I had to climb out my window and climb back into another hall.’ Nancy scrubbed her arm across her eyes, and then pulled back. ‘Look at the size of you Maggie!’

Margaret couldn’t help but laugh. She took Nancy’s hand and guided it to where a tiny foot was currently jabbing her. ‘He likes the sound of your voice, from the way he’s moving around in me. Whenever he hears Lydia’s voice he goes still as a statue.’

Nancy tactfully made no comment on Margaret’s choice of pronoun. ‘Don’t it hurt?’

‘It’s more annoying than anything. I can hardly sleep some nights.’

‘Let me get you comfy then.’

She eased Margaret onto her side, a pillow under her taking the weight of the baby, then settled behind her. Tucked up against Nancy, Margaret felt safe and secure as she hadn’t for months. Nancy’s warmth seemed to settle in the sore muscles of her back and hips, soothing her in a way that Lydia’s attentive ministrations failed to do so. Then there was Nancy’s hand, trailing up and down her thigh at first lullingly, then increasingly suggestively.

‘Haven’t you heard, Mags, that it’s supposed to be really good when you’re expecting? D’you want me to ease you?’ Nancy’s husky voice was right behind Margaret’s ear, sending shivers down her back. 

Margaret might have said no another time, feeling tired and ungainly and unattractive, but she had missed Nancy so much, and her friend’s loving, protective presence had her almost melting into the mattress. ‘Oh yes, please Nance!’

A kiss was placed on the side of Margaret’s neck. ‘Good girl.’

Nancy reached under Margaret’s nightgown, found her heavy breasts. She rolled a nipple firmly between her fingers, yet still was careful of the soreness of Margaret’s breasts. When Margaret gasped, she felt Nancy’s smirk against the sweaty skin of her shoulder.

Nancy kept on teasing her, even when Margaret squirmed and pressed her arse back against Nancy, trying to satisfy her need by getting friction where she was warm and wanting. ‘Not yet, Mags.’

Margaret made a soft sound of frustration, only half-serious. After all, Nancy’s domineering was the fun of being with her. Besides, it was clear that Nancy wasn’t being anywhere near as commanding as she could be, mindful of Margaret’s gravidity.

At long last, Nancy’s took her hand from Margaret’s chest, smoothed it down the swollen, sensitive stretch of her belly, then through the wiry curls at the apex of her thighs. She was unbelievably wet already, pregnancy making her all the more susceptive to Nancy’s care. When Nancy’s fingers pressed with the lightest of pressures against her clit, Margaret heaved with a great sob, more sensitive than she had expected.

‘Shh,’ Nancy hushed her, and Margaret obediently brought her clenched fist to her mouth, bit down hard to quiet her cries of pleasure, as Nancy worked her fingers against her clit. Climax hurtled towards Margaret quicker than it had ever done before, and she barely had the presence of mind to think to herself  _ It’s true what they say about pregnancy making you sensitive  _ before she felt the waves of her peak crest - 

And then Nancy drew her hand away before Margaret was able to come. Margaret turned to her, frustrated tears in her eyes, but Nancy was grinning, and she pulled Margaret over, turning her onto her back. Margaret had barely settled down again before Nancy was between her thighs, and now it was her tongue earnestly lashing Margaret’s bud, two fingers pushing inside Margaret’s cunny easily. Margaret struggled to hold back her moans, so aroused that she could feel her slickness on her thighs.

Wicked, long fingers pressed against the spot in Margaret’s cunny that had her almost senseless with pleasure, and she climaxed at last. Nancy licked her clit through the orgasm and beyond, until sensitivity made it uncomfortable and Margaret weakly kicked her away.

Now Margaret was boneless, exhausted. Nancy had to help her onto her side again, rearrange the pillow under her belly and draw the covers over her. In hazy post-coital comfort, the aches and pains of Margaret’s overworked body were blessedly absent. The warmth and weight of Nancy behind Margaret had her eyes shutting involuntarily.

‘Stay with me, Nance.’ It was more a plea than a request.

Nancy didn’t reply at once. There was something a little sad in her silence. ‘Until you’re asleep. I have to return the key before Lydia realises what we’ve been up to.’

‘You’ll come again, won’t you?’

‘Of course! And when you start to labour, I’ll be there whether Lydia wills it or not.’

That was enough to appease Margaret. The future before her was shadowy: the risks of birth, the future of the baby, whether their indenture in Lydia’s house was permanent or they’d ever make their escape. For now though, Nancy’s arms were wrapped around her, protecting and encircling her and her unborn child. There was no place Margaret would rather drift off to sleep than curled up with her best friend, their troubles put off for some time yet.


End file.
